


Room 303

by thekingslover



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor becomes a different person when he passes through that door labeled 303.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Room 303

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr Coliver sideblog 'monicashipscoliver'.

Connor becomes a different person when he passes through that door labeled 303. He’s not sure how it happens exactly. He’s a smug, self-serving asshole, self-declared, 99% of the time, but the minute he lays eyes on Oliver, everything changes.

The world is hostile. You take what you want or it will take everything from you instead.

Oliver’s the only exception. His kind smile is built to disarm, but he doesn’t attack when Connor’s walls are down. Instead, he takes Connor in his arms.

He’s warmth. He’s an anchor. He’s home.

He’s everything Connor never knew he wanted.

"Come to bed," Oliver says, not for sex, but because he’s tired. "I like falling asleep beside you."

"You don’t mean that," Connor says every time. No one’s ever meant it before.

Oliver’s laugh is intoxicating, contagious.

He holds up the blankets for Connor as he slides into bed beside him. Connor fits there like the missing puzzle piece. Oliver’s arms slide around Connor’s waist like they were made to be there.

"I like waking up to you, too," Oliver says, voice rough with sleep.

"You don’t mean that," Connor says. It feels like a game, the way he dances away from words meant to comfort.

Oliver smiles against the back of Connor’s neck. How can a smile be so strong that you don’t even need to see it to feel it’s warmth?

"I love you," Oliver whispers, a breath. A question.

"I love you, too," Connor replies, just as he does every night.

Because Oliver is warmth. He’s an anchor. He’s _home_.

He’s everything Connor doesn’t deserve, but all that he wants.


End file.
